6kv Chapter 89 Shoemaker's Village
Chapter 89 Shoemaker's Village
Alwin and Holt rode side by side on the bumpy dirt road.
The roadside is covered with blackthorn plum trees, and occasionally you can see herds of deer passing by.
Holt deduced that the road was wide enough for two carriages to travel side by side, and must have been a trade route in the past.
three days ago.
Alvin and Holt are separated from Geralt and Frey.
The former went to the shoemaker's village to look for clues, while the latter returned to the Temple of Meritelli to repair the image and in case the Temple of Meritelli suffered any misfortune.
Alwin recalled meeting Theodore Reed, a timber merchant, shortly after descending the mountain.
During a casual conversation, he mentioned that there was a shoemaker's village that was haunted.
Haunted?
This reminded him of demons and spirits.
The appearance of demons is often caused by extremely strong resentment.
If the timing is right, we might actually find some useful clues.
"Arwen..."
Holt, who had been silent the whole time, suddenly spoke.
His cat-like eyes subtly swept over the ancient greatsword on Arwen's back, hesitated for a moment, and then spoke again with an unnatural expression.
"Is Vesemir alright?"
Arwen snapped out of his daze and paused for a moment.
"Master Vesemir has always been in my memory as both strict and kind."
Holt breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good."
The two walked out of the forest and looked into the distance.
A village of about fifty households came into view.
The houses in the village were built of red bricks, and white smoke billowed from the chimneys, making them look much wealthier than ordinary villages.
To the right of the village, there is a small pond surrounded by cattails and free-range ducks.
The bumpy path leads straight to the center of the village, and beyond that, the forest returns to a dark expanse.
Holt held up his finger.
"That's the shoemaker's village."
The two men gripped the horse's flanks tightly with their legs and galloped away.
The village gate was surrounded by a wooden fence, and a sign with a boot pattern hung on a wooden post.
You can hear the clanging and tinkling sounds coming from the village from a great distance.
The greyhound wandering at the village entrance noticed the sound of hooves immediately and barked wildly.
The villagers, who were resting in the farmhouse, opened their eyes in agitation upon hearing the noise and shouted angrily.
"Damn it! Who is it?! Can't a person rest in the middle of the day?!"
Arwin tightened the reins, stopped in front of him, and reached over his shoulder.
The villager froze instantly, his arrogance vanished completely, and a sharp aura pressed against his head, sending chills down his spine.
A pair of grayish-yellow cat eyes looked down at him from beneath the hood.
"Call out the person in charge of your village."
The villager swallowed hard, and said tremblingly, "Yes, sir, I'll go right away, I'll go right away!"
Arwin moved the sword aside, and the villagers scrambled and crawled towards the village.
Holt's eyes lit up when he saw Alwin's direct approach.
This style is completely unlike Geralt's.
In no time at all.
An elderly man with a hunched back led more than twenty villagers, each carrying pitchforks and flails, out of the village.
The old man leaned on a cane; his skin was rough, and the corners of his eyes were covered with deep wrinkles.
"Elder, it's them. They came in and pointed their swords at me."
The villagers who had been standing earlier straightened their backs, their faces full of complaints, no longer cowering as before, as if the crowd behind them had given them great confidence.
The old man, addressed as elder, raised his head, his aged eyes filled with vigilance.
"I am Xavier Brook, an elder of the shoemaker's village. Are you two guests here to buy leather armor and shoes?"
"Our village's tailoring skills are renowned throughout Cordwin."
"No," Alvin interrupted, "I have something to ask you. I heard this place is haunted, is that true?"
The shoemaker village elder squinted, and when he saw the badges on the two men's chests and the sword hilts on their backs, his tightly furrowed brows suddenly relaxed, and a warm smile spread across his face.
"You're demon hunters? Did you see the notice in town and come to help the village exorcise monsters? That's great!"
He tapped the ground with his cane.
"Gentlemen witchers, this monster has been plaguing our village for years."
"I'm willing to pay..." He stretched out his left hand, his five fingers swaying, and finally raised his index finger.
"100 crowns, what do you gentlemen think?"
Alwin glanced at the villagers behind the old man.
Each of them was very sturdy, and their wary eyes carried a hint of ferocity, which was very rare among ordinary villagers.
His gaze returned to the old man, his voice indifferent.
"100 crowns, Elder, that's no small sum."
The elder sighed repeatedly.
"Witcher, you don't know this, but over the years, the village has been plagued by ghosts and monsters, and we've been living off our savings. If this continues, we'll be starving."
Holt gestured that there was no problem, Alvin said.
"The amount of payment is not a problem, I need information, concrete information."
"Like, when did the ghost stories start in your village? Who discovered them? What do they look like?"
The elder frowned, his graying brows furrowing deeply, the nasolabial folds on his forehead creased in thought.
"Hmm... as for the exact time of the haunting..."
The middle-aged villager next to him whispered a reminder, "It was a village that was only recently established, about thirty years ago..."
The elder tapped his cane. "Yes... it was when the village was first established. Everyone was very busy back then, but shoes were being stolen from time to time."
"At first, there was only one left for about half a year. Everyone thought it was just some kid playing around and didn't pay much attention to it."
"But it became more and more frequent, from one a month to one every half month. The village elder at the time, who was my father, mobilized the whole village to search, but they found nothing."
"It wasn't until a woman got up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night that she discovered a ghostly figure stealing shoes, muttering 'Boots...boots...'"
"That's when we discovered the village was haunted."
Arwen asked with a probing tone, "Thirty years? Didn't anyone ask the lord for a solution? Or relocate the village?"
The elder sighed. "Mr. Witcher, we did everything you said. But these are monsters. What can the lord find out by sending knights? Instead, he accused us of stealing shoes, whipped my father several times, and increased the taxes."
"As for moving? That's even more impossible."
A villager looked up, crossed his arms, and said, "Yes, it's only a few miles from the capital. Traveling merchants from Shangxingbu usually have to come here to get to the capital."
The elder took over the conversation, his eyes filled with fear.
"If it's just a few fewer pairs of shoes each year, it's not a big deal given the village's production capacity."
"But it started killing people five years ago."
"First it was a widow from the village, then a fur trader passing by, oh my..."
"How was the murder discovered?"
"It was the village dogs; they brought back the bloody boots of the dead men."
"Later I sent some brave young men to see for themselves. It was in the woods on the hillside east of the village, and it was covered in blood."
The elder covered his face.
"Later, more and more people died, and merchants almost disappeared."
"Gods above, today we have finally seen two Witchers."
"Please, you must help us."